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Stories From the Edge of Blindness

In 2002, Retinitis Pigmentosa changed my life. This is my story of a slow approach to darkness.

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parents

I Don’t Do Sick Well

I am sick.  Nothing serious, just a cold that won’t seem to go away, but I don’t do sick well.  No one likes being sick, I get that, but when I get a cold, I act like the world is crumbling.  I wasn’t always like this.  I used to get sick and ride it out and never talk about it.  Now, I am not only talking about it, but writing a blog post about it.  I must sound pretty crazy, or like a total princess.  Either way, it’s not cool.  I need to figure out where my tenacity and grit escaped to.  Thanks to my Dad, I think I have an idea.

I was visiting my Dad 4  days ago, the day the beast cold started attacking my throat, and I mentioned that I felt like I have become super sensitive to just a simple cold, making a huge deal about a sniffle or two.  He told me that he thinks I may feel like any physical ailment is just one more fucking thing on top of the big thing, the blind thing.  And, yes, he did say the F word; I come from a family who use expletives freely.
Continue reading “I Don’t Do Sick Well”

Embers

The thing with fire is that it is unpredictable.  An ember can become a rage of flames that devour hillsides and homes, a torrent of fear that reaches its fingers into the sky and covers the landscape in ash.  Fire doesn’t discriminate; it can’t be reasoned with or cajoled.  But, it can be contained, by the tireless bravery of fire fighters who battle an enemy that knows no mercy.  I am so very grateful for all of the men and women who have been fighting the fires that filled Los Angeles with smoke and fear; it is because of them that the beast has been quelled.

My parents are safe and the home that they have shared for 41 years is intact.  It was a terrifying few days; first waiting for them to evacuate and get to my apartment.  I was so glad to see them safe when they pulled into our driveway.  Then we waited for news about their house and for the announcement that they could finally return home. My parents are in their 80’s but they are strong, resilient and incredibly stubborn; when they left my apartment last night, they were pale with exhaustion, but so relieved to be going home.

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